


When You Sleep

by wingedgods



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7476948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedgods/pseuds/wingedgods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over, but nothing goes back to normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Sleep

           

              Nobody sleeps anymore. It’s a little ironic, Ginny thinks, that a war could be over, a constant threat now gone, and yet, no one sleeps. Harry doesn’t sleep. Harry writes letters, and gardens, and reads about everything but violence. There are half read books spread across his home, history books stopped half way through when war is mentioned and muggle novels tossed aside with surprise plot twists. He wrote her to say he’s taken up carpentry, remodeling 13 Grimmauld Place. He takes pleasure in describing Mrs. Black’s horror at Muggle tools desecrating her ancestor’s home, and Ginny laughed so hard at his last letter she almost fell out of her chair.

              She knows George doesn’t sleep. He tried, experimented with new products to help the world sleep, to help the world forget its trauma, to help the world remember its dead. The product was recalled a few months later. Wizards and witches became addicted to the escape from painful memories, and so did George. He doesn’t write, but she sends him letter after letter, telling him about classes, Quidditch, the new first years, and the promising pranksters. Ron says George keeps all the letters on his desk.

              Ginny doesn’t know if Ron sleeps. He looks tired and haggard, worry lines already appearing on his face. She’s grateful he’s working with George, that her brother is not alone. Ron told her once, at Hog’s Head, a little bit too much fire whiskey in his system, that he doesn’t do much good at the store, that he’s not smart enough to help with the products, and he will never be the brother George needs. Ginny smacked him upside the head, and told him everyone knows he’s keeping the store afloat.

              Hermione sleeps in the bed next to Ginny, one or two hours every night, a book on top of her chest, wand under her pillow. She came back to Hogwarts after the war. She says she didn’t know what else to do, and Ginny understands. But Hogwarts doesn’t feel as safe as it once did, and Hermione jumps at loud noises. She pulled her wand on Ginny once, when Ginny tried to wake her from a nightmare. But on the weekends Hermione goes to stay with Ron, she comes back a little taller, a little less pale, and the dark circles under her eyes a little less apparent.

              And then there’s Luna.

              Ginny slips on a sweater her mother made her, pulls on her shoes, and silently walks out of the dormitory and through the common room. She makes her way through the castle, and runs into Professor Flitwick. He nods at her; they have a deal worked out. She walks out on to the grounds, towards the lake, and finds Luna sitting by the edge, feet in the water. She sits next to her, and bumps their shoulders together. Silently Luna rests her head against Ginny’s shoulder, and they sit there.

              “We should get a tent. I don’t think any of the professors would object.” Luna looks up and gives Ginny a half smile.

              “Since when do you ask permission?” Ginny poked Luna in the side but smiled. They went back to enjoying a quiet before Luna said softly, “I’d like that.”

~*~

              No one did object, and a tent appears by the lake. Ginny smiles the first time she sees it, and remembers her rowdy brothers dancing around after the world cup. Luna smiles at her: “Let’s only allow good memories here.”

              There’s four beds all set up, though only Luna is a permanent resident. Ginny floats in and out, sometimes staying in the dorm, where she can keep an eye on Hermione. Hermione firmly refuses to sleep in the tent, says she has spent enough time in one last year to last a life time. Neville comes by, always with a plant to keep the wrackspurts away. Sometimes he sleeps there too. He says it’s to watch over Luna, but Ginny thinks that here in this small space, Neville feels safe. She sees him in the halls looking over his shoulder, always sitting with his back to the wall. He’s rougher around the edges then the chubby faced boy that stepped on her toes at the Yule Ball, but underneath it all he’s still Neville.

              He comes up to her while she’s lying in the sun, blissfully enjoying the surprise warm day in the middle of November. She squints up at him, and grins.

              “Where’s Luna?” Ginny waves her arm in a random direction.

              “Somewhere over there, visiting the thestrals. I’m not sure where the herd usually is.” Neville gingerly sits down next to her. His left knee is stiff and awkward, a side effect from the year with the Carrows. She knows there are other scars that she can’t see, and fists her hands together.

              “You didn’t go with?” Ginny shakes her head.

              “I don’t like the thestrals. I will never know why Luna insists on visiting them so often.”  

              “Maybe she likes remembering.” Ginny is silent at that. Ginny hates to look at the thestrals for that exact reason; she looks at the thestrals and remembers Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Colin. Neville laid down next to Ginny. “How’s Harry?” Ginny rolls her eyes.

              “Keeping busy. He’s rebuilding his entire house with muggle tools.” Neville laughs.

              “And you two?” Ginny turns and sticks her tongue out at Neville.

              “You gossip.” She rolls back on to her back, and puts her hands behind her head. “We don’t need each other like that anymore.” She laughs. “The war is over, and things should be back to normal, but they really aren’t.”

              “Do you miss him?”

              “Yes, he’s family,” she replies, staring up at the clouds. “But that’s the only way I miss him.” Neville hums at that.

              “I miss him.” Ginny cocks an eyebrow at him, and Neville flushes. “Not like that. It’s just...” Neville pauses. “Harry could put people at easy just by being himself. I miss being around someone like that.” Ginny sits up and looks down at him.

              “You know you are that person, right?” Neville scoffs. “No Neville it’s true. Last year, you became that person. You protected everybody, made people feel safe when not even the professors could protect them.” Neville squirms uncomfortably, and Ginny pinches him. “Take the damn compliment loser.”

              “Thanks Ginny,” Neville whispers, and Ginny hopes he believes her. They sit, enjoying the breeze, and watch the dusk move in. As the sun begins to set, Luna appears, wafting toward them. Ginny loves to watch Luna moves, the way her limbs move so fluidly that she appears almost ethereal. She smiles at the two of them, and then excitedly gives Neville a hug when she see the plant he brought.

              “This is wonderful, Ginny’s cot is being infested with wrackspurts!” Ginny startled and restrained herself from checking for little creatures around her body. Neville winked at her, then stood up. “I’m going to head over to the Great Hall for some dinner. Want to come?” Ginny nodded and stood up, brushing the grass off of her clothes.

              “I’ll come too.” Ginny and Neville looked at her, surprised. Luna hadn’t stepped foot in the great hall since the Welcoming Feast. She got food from the kitchens instead, and ate either there with the house elves or in the tent. Ginny looked at Luna’s hands. Where Luna could hide her emotions behind a blank dreamlike façade, her hands twitched and curled, spilling secrets to those careful enough to look. The fingers on her left hand tapped nervously against her hips.

              “You sure?” Ginny watched the fingers curl into her skirt, then open again and stroke the material.

              “Yes.” Luna started walking toward the castle, and Neville and Ginny followed behind.  They followed her into the castle, up the stairs, through the doors in the Great Hall, and then, confusedly, to the Slytherin table. Well, former Slytherin table, Ginny thought wryly to herself. Headmistress McGonagall gave a compelling speech before the Sorting Ceremony, remembering the dead and calling for inter-house unity. The houses still existed, each still sleeping in their own dormitory, but classes became more intermixed, and the desegregation of tables was forced heavily. But the labels were still remembered, and the Slytherin table tended to be emptiest at any given time. Neville hesitated, and Ginny stopped with him.

              “What’s she doing?” Neville whispered, as Luna wandered to the end of the table, where Draco Malfoy sat, alone. Ginny shrugged her shoulders, watching Luna smoothly move into the seat next to Malfoy and carefully give him a side hug. Malfoy didn’t seem surprised to see her, but he did flinch when she touched him. Ginny stood, aware she was blocking traffic, and watched Luna murmur apologies, only for Malfoy to carefully return the hug. Neville nudged her and walked towards the two. Ginny followed hesitantly.

              “Mind if we sit here?” Neville asked, gesturing towards the seat across from Malfoy. Malfoy looked nervous, but shrugged. He poked at his plate of food, shoulders curling in on himself. Luna mimicked his shrug, but smiled happily. Ginny would do anything for that smile, so she sat next to Neville, across from Luna and Malfoy, and started filling her plate.

              “Draco is my friend too.” Ginny looked up into Luna’s piercing gaze. The smile was gone, and Ginny wondered if the disapproval she felt was written on her face. Ginny dipped her head, and offered a fake smile. She didn’t like Malfoy, had been mocked by him for too long, her family had been hurt by him and his for too long and just because she was surrounded by forgiving people didn’t mean she was one too. But she trusted Luna, so all she said was: “Anyone started the Charms essay yet?”

~*~

              Malfoy became a permanent resident of the tent and Ginny was not happy about it. She wrote furious letters to Harry, venting her frustration to someone who would understand, but did not get an answer she want.

              “I’m tired of being angry.” They were at the Hog’s Head. The constant chatter at the Three Broomsticks made Harry edgy, and Ginny liked seeing Aberforth, who always gave her free drinks while grumbling about damn nuisances in his bar.

              “Who said anything about being angry?” Harry rolled his eyes.

              “Ginny, you might be the angriest person I know.”

              “Fuck you.” Harry arches his eyebrow. “I’m not angry I just don’t like him.” Ginny took a long sip of butterbeer, studied Harry’s face. He still looked like shit, like the world’s oldest 18 year old, but his shoulders were more relaxed then she had seen in a while, and she would take even the smallest bit of progress.

              “Sure,” Harry glanced at her over his mug, “and there’s nothing on my forehead.” Ginny bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to scream. She wanted something stronger than the butterbeer, she wanted to run until her lungs screamed, she wanted to punch a wall, she wanted to not to be in this conversation. Harry sighed.

              “Ginny, we are all ok. You gotta let go.”

              “How the fuck am I supposed to let go?” So much for not being angry Ginny thought to herself, as the tone matched with the volume of her question made Harry flinch. She felt the pangs of guilt, but they were slight. “No but actually Harry. How the fuck am I supposed to let go? How can I let go of the fact that none of my friends sleep anymore? How am I supposed to let go of the fact that this is the first time you left your house in 3 weeks? How am I supposed to let go of Hermione’s nightmares? Or the fact the Luna can’t sleep inside? Or that Neville won’t ever let someone walk behind him? Or god Harry, George? What about George? What about Fred?” She can’t breathe, she’s scared and damn right she’s angry why isn’t everyone around her angry how is everyone so calm and accepting all the time. She runs outside, runs out of Hogsmeade, waits until no one is near, slips to her knees, and breathes. She listens to her breath, broken and frantic. Her lungs hurt and she thinks she might be crying.

 Harry finds her in due time, enough time for her to move from kneeling in the dirt to her bottom against the ground and knees under her chin. The tears have stopped but the breathing is still hard. She feels Harry sit next to her and listens to his breathing. She thinks he might be telling her to take a deep breath and match what he’s doing. Deep breath after deep breath after deep breath… they fade in steady calming breathes. Ginny inhales, walks her feet until they are stretched out in front of her, and wipes her face. She sits and waits for Harry to say something.

              “Ginny,” and fuck if it doesn’t make Ginny want to punch something at how sad he sounds. “You have every right to be angry. But take it from someone who’s been angry for a long time, it doesn’t help.” Ginny looked up at him, and felt the tears in her eyes again. He was staring out into nothing, face vacant. “I think if I stay angry, it might kill me.” Ginny leaned against him, and they sat there.

              “I’ll try Harry I really will.” Harry gave her a smile.

              “And tell Malfoy he’s a wanker for me.” Ginny laughed in surprise, and for a moment the two of them laughed together like the teenagers they should be.

  
~*~

              After Harry apparated home, with promises to work on leaving the house more, Ginny walked back to Hogwarts. She walked and thought, and wished that Harry wasn’t right. She made her way to the lake, where she knew Malfoy liked to sit and read and avoid the rest of the student population. She sat next to him without a word. He didn’t say anything, but his posture was rigid, and she could see him side-eyeing her, waiting.

              “Harry wanted me to let you know you’re a wanker.” Seemed like the best way to start the conversation she really didn’t want to have. Malfoy turned to look at her, forehead furrowed. Then he snorted.

              “Doesn’t Scarhead have better things to do then insult me?” Ginny shrugged.

              “It’s nice that war doesn’t change everything.” Malfoy went rigid again.

              “We finally having this conversation?”  Ginny nodded. She didn’t speak immediately, trying to come up with the right words.

              “I don’t forgive you.” Malfoy did not look surprised. “I’m angry at you, so angry always. I hate having you around, I hate seeing you every day, and I honestly hate that Luna has just seemed to forgiven you. I don’t understand why she’s friends with you, and I’m not sure I want to either.” Silence. The two of them sat there, and listened to the water.

              “Don’t forgive.” Malfoy’s voice sounded flat, cold, almost like the arrogant sneering boy he once had been. “Forgiveness is weakness.”

              “Sounds very Slytherin.” Malfoy tilted his head at her.

              “Haven’t you heard? House stereotypes are a punishable offense.” Ginny couldn’t help but chuckle.

              “I’m serious though.” Malfoy looked her in the eyes. “I don’t deserve it, I’ve done nothing to deserve any forgiveness. The only reason I’m here and not in Azkaban is because your boyfriend is an idiot who spoke up for me, god knows why.”  Ginny rolled her eyes.

              “Ex-boyfriend, and he has an irritating habit in believing in the best in people. I don’t seem to have that trait.”

              “Weasley.” Malfoy’s face was cold, stoic. “I won’t make excuses. I caused the deaths of many, I didn’t even try to resist the Dark Lord. I’ve been a coward my entire life, and I probably will always be one. I’m not going to pretend I suddenly love Muggles, or that in my mind I don’t automatically label people as Purebloods, Half-Bloods, and Mudbloods. I’m still the Slytherin bastard who made fun of your family for being poor, and I probably will always be one. But I’m trying, and god help me, Luna will never let me stop trying.” He shook his head. “How is this my life? Sitting with a Weasley talking about feelings.” Ginny looked at him, and studied him. His hair was overgrown, longer then she had ever seen it. He had dark circles, and every so often his eye twitched.  

              “I for one always planned to sit next to you and discuss feelings with you. I had Professor Trelawney predict that date and time even.” Draco gave her an annoyed look so reminiscent of 15 year old Draco Malfoy, she had to bite her cheek to keep from smiling. She stayed for a few more minutes.

              “Look I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive you for what you’ve done, or believe you could be a better person.” Malfoy looked away. “But for Luna’s sake, I hope I’m wrong. And if you disappoint her, I won’t hold back my anger.” Ginny got up, and headed towards the tent. She felt heavy, exhausted, the day’s conversations leaving her drained. She found the tent empty, and lay down on the tent closest to the entrance. She lay there, without closing her eyes, staring at the shadows on the roofs, and the plant decorating her bedside table. She heard someone softly walk up to the tent and enter, a gleam of lights piercing in. Luna entered through the light and Ginny marveled at how beautiful she looked illuminated like that.

              “Ginny? You sleeping?” Ginny sat up in answer. Luna looked disappointed, and Ginny wanted to do anything to fix that. Luna came and sat down on the floor next to the cot. Ginny moved to get off the cot, but Luna grabbed her hand. “Please try.” Ginny looked at her. “You don’t even close your eyes in here.” Ginny didn’t know how to explain to Luna that she can’t close her eyes. She sought to find the right words, the words to explain that she can’t sleep until everyone she loves is safe, until they are all healthy, all functioning. Luna laces their fingers together, and looks up at Ginny’s face. “Try.” Ginny laid down and closed her eyes, and listened to Luna’s breathing, only to tightly clench her fingers every time she felt herself falling asleep. “Let go Ginny let go.” Ginny felt sick, felt like crying, felt like running away so that she would never disappoint Luna again.

              “I’m so sorry Luna I’m so sorry.” Luna crawled into the bed with her, cupped her face. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

              “You aren’t disappointing me Ginny. You’re scaring me.” Ginny felt Luna studying her face, and clamped her eyes shut. Fingers ran across her face, outlining the lines of her face. Then soft lips pressed against Ginny’s mouth. Ginny opened her eyes, saw Luna smiling sadly at her. “It’s scary when the people we love ignore themselves to help everyone else.”

              “You all need sleep more. You need-” Ginny isn’t sure what any of them needed. Maybe to laugh more. To yell more. To be angry more. To be teenagers. To be safe. To be reckless. What is there left to do anymore.

              “I need you.” Ginny bit her lip. She out for Luna’s face, stroked her cheek, curled her fingers in her hair, and pulled her in for another kiss. When Luna pulled away, smiling, Ginny could still feel the sensation of the kiss on her mouth.

              “I love you too.” Luna kissed Ginny’s forehead, then turned over on her side. After a moment, she reached over to pull Ginny’s arm over her waist.

              “Sleep Ginny.” Ginny slept, curled around Luna, face nestled against her neck. She woke up a couple hours later to cramped legs, Luna’s preposterous laugh, and Malfoy handing Neville 2 galleons.      

              “Honestly Weasley, I thought Gryffindor’s were supposed to be the brave first move kind of people.” Ginny threw a pillow at his head, and laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fic I've published online so comments appreciated!


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